


hard to resist

by aac7



Series: friends being a headache [7]
Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, and also pining a lot, featuring felix being the best uncle
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-02
Updated: 2021-03-02
Packaged: 2021-03-14 22:47:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,185
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29799018
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aac7/pseuds/aac7
Summary: Grimacing at the sweetness clinging to the inside of his mouth, Felix loosens his tie and glances around the room once more. He doesn’t spot Sylvain, but his eyes are drawn to something else across the room.Someoneelse.
Relationships: Felix Hugo Fraldarius/My Unit | Byleth
Series: friends being a headache [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1958674
Comments: 5
Kudos: 26





	hard to resist

**Author's Note:**

> I honestly don't know what's going on here but this was originally written as a drabble to practice writing glenn...then my finger slipped, my brain shut off, and it was suddenly all about felileth (as all things should be)

Felix sighed, heavy and probably over-dramatic, glaring down at the glass of champagne in his hand. To say that he was bored tonight would be a gross understatement. The subdued lights of the ballroom made his eyelids droop. To allow guests to better socialize, the music from the band had turned far too mellow, each note lazily drifting down from the mezzanine and making him feel restless.

He didn’t want to be here, of course, and he’d told his father as much when the invitation had been forwarded into his inbox. He’d planned to skip out and stay at home, get a head start on some work that was meant for Monday. They were opening a new branch soon, and the chief operating officer was arriving on Monday to be briefed. There was lots of work to be done until then.

It’d been Ingrid and Glenn who had driven to his apartment, abusing the spare key he’d given them in order to ambush him. Then they had wrestled him into a suit and all but dragged him into their family-friendly SUV, where he’d been forced to listen to a song about baby sharks until they’d arrived at their current destination. 

These ritzy parties had never been his scene. They were crowded, loud, and people kept trying to talk to him no matter how reproachful his gaze. The people at these events were just so damn _friendly_ , full of bright-eyed social entrepreneurs encouraging guests to open their wallets in order to throw dollar signs at the world’s biggest problems. Felix didn’t even know who was raising money for what tonight, but it was likely something about bees or trees or maybe even some kind of disease. 

Now it wasn’t that Felix didn’t care - Aegis’ buildings had officially gone green two months ago and he’d never said no to walking for a cure - it was simply that he didn’t like attending the gaudy fundraiser galas. He could make his donations online just fine, but his father could never turn down an invitation to anything. The old man was too much of a pushover to be the head of a private security firm.

Felix swipes a flute of champagne off a passing waiter, downing the bubbly liquid in one go and setting the glass down on the table. It’s so sickly sweet that it makes him gag, but there really was no chance that he’d find anything harder at an event that was meant to be kid friendly. His eyes scan the room in search of Sylvain, who’d most definitely brought a flask of something along - the man never attended a charity gala without it, a small luxury Felix had never been shy about abusing. 

He spots his father first. He’s across the room and is making a group of sharply dressed CEO’s laugh. Felix recognizes a few of them. Sylvain’s father, Ingrid’s mother, Dimitri’s parents. There are two he doesn’t know, but Felix doesn’t bother trying to figure out who they are. He could really care less.

The music picks up a little, prompting a few people onto the dance floor. Ingrid and Glenn are among them, swinging Felix’s giggling niece, Maggie, between them. 

Rolling his eyes, Felix grabs another glass of champagne. Where the hell was Sylvain when he needed him? 

Grimacing at the sweetness clinging to the inside of his mouth, Felix loosens his tie and glances around the room once more. He doesn’t spot Sylvain, but his eyes are drawn to something else across the room. 

_Someone_ else.

She had her back to him, but he was absolutely mesmerized by the way her hips swayed as she strode across the floor. She didn’t seem to be in any particular hurry, and he couldn’t help but let his eyes wander down the line of her body, tracing each curve draped in black silk. Captivated, Felix watches as she takes a seat at her table, inhaling sharply as she crosses her leg, the side slit of her dress slipping aside. His eyes travel guiltily from the pointed tip of her heel and up the smooth, toned expanse of her calf and thigh.

He steals a glance at her face. She seems resigned, bored, glancing around disinterestedly as if this event and everyone else were beneath her. The slight scowl on her lips was painted a deep red, pressed against the rim of her glass. Unlike the other women at the gala, she wore her hair down. Soft mint tresses tumbled over her shoulders in neat yet wild waves, exuding a confidence in self that so many others here seemed to lack. 

It’s only a matter of time before her gaze meets his, and her scowl curls into a smile that he can only describe as sly as she raises her drink in his direction and winks.

Something hot twists in the pit of his stomach, because holy _shit._

She’s blocked from his view when brother steps in front of him, an annoyingly smug smile on his face. “Close your mouth, Felix. You’re basically drooling.” 

Felix’s eyes narrow. “Shut up, Glenn.”

“Hey, young ears present,” his brother chides lightly, nodding to the four year-old clinging to his hand. He nudges his daughter forward. “Go give your uncle a hug, he’s feeling grumpy.” Before Felix can argue, the little girl springs forward, latching onto his right leg. He reaches down and pats her back stiffly. Though he adores his niece, he knows full well that his pants are now covered in crumbs and unidentifiable sticky things that cling to children. He bends down and picks her up when she starts squeezing too tightly, settling her on his hip. 

“You need to relax a little,” Glenn chuckles, stroking his daughter’s blonde hair. “It’s the weekend.”

Maggie grabs a sticky fistful of Felix’s hair, and he _dares_ her to pull. “I _was_ relaxing until you and your wife broke into my home and dragged me out. The two of you combined are almost as bad a distraction as Sylvain.” The fool could derail an entire week’s worth of Felix’s work if he really tried.

Glenn gives him a deeply unimpressed look. “Paperwork on a Saturday is your idea of relaxation?”

“It’s what I get paid for, isn’t it?” He points out, leaning back when his niece starts patting him on the cheek, squirming to get out of his hold. “Hey, no hitting,” he scolds lightly, catching one of her ridiculously tiny hands. Her sweet little smile is cloying, and she uses her free hand to pinch and pull at his other cheek. 

“Alright, that’s it,” Felix sighs, placing her back on her own feet. “I’m gonna sell all your toys.”

“No!” Maggie giggles as if he were joking. She dashes off towards Ingrid, who scoops her up and swings her around a few times. 

Glenn gets that stupid dreamy smile on his face as he watches his family. Domestic bliss and whatnot. “As I was saying, you need to relax. Go ask that girl out or something.”

“What girl?” He questions sharply, knowing full well who he was talking about but not willing to admit it. 

“The femme fatale over there. I saw you two making eyes at each other,” Glenn says, his tone teasing as he pokes Felix in the shoulder. “You’ve always had a thing for the dangerous ones, haven’t you?”

“That’s not true.” He’d dated Annette just a year ago, and she was anything but dangerous, all sunshine, butterflies and sweet things. “And I wasn’t making eyes at her.”

“You’ve always been a bad liar, Fe.”

Sylvain chooses that moment to make his appearance. He often materializes out of nowhere when Felix is at his weakest. It’s almost as if he and Glenn can sense when he’s under emotional duress. “Are we talking about Felix’s love life?”

“No, we’re not,” Felix starts, shooting Glenn a warning glance that his dumb brother pointedly ignores.

“Yes, we are,” he says, tilting his head towards the woman across the room. 

“Oh my god,” Felix mutters, glowering at the men giggling like schoolgirls. “I hate my life.”

“Come on, just ask that woman out,” Glenn prods, nudging him slightly. “Maybe you’ll hate your life less if you get laid or something.”

“I’m not gonna do that,” he refuses, turning away to hide the blush creeping onto his cheeks at the idea of asking her out.

Sylvain glances in her direction, whistling lowly as he does so. “Well, she’s new. Friend of Ingrid’s?”

Glenn shakes his head. “Don’t believe so, no. You probably would have dated already if she was.”

Sylvain studies her for a few more moments, then shrugs. “I dunno. She looks like she could and would eat a man alive.”

“And that’s a bad thing?” Felix checks, watching as she slowly stands, adjusting her dress and sweeping her hair over her shoulders as she heads over to the refreshments table. 

“For you, maybe,” Sylvain chuckles, his brows disappearing past his bangs as he shamelessly appreciates each curve and dip of her figure. “Personally? I enjoy the challenge.”

“You think I can’t handle it?” Felix questions, trying not to sound so offended. 

“You’re a fussy, anal-retentive neat freak,” Sylvain says, though it isn’t much of an explanation.

“Yeah,” Glenn agrees, clapping Felix on the shoulder. “You just need to lighten up and quit being so damn jaded. You’ve been all work and no play lately. Live a little!”

Felix doesn’t answer, his eyes still glued to the woman in the black dress. She glances over her shoulder at him, their eyes locking for a heated second that makes Felix’s blood burn beneath his skin. She holds his gaze as she reaches across the table for a profiterole, lifting it to her mouth. She takes a single bite, custard spilling out of the pastry and onto her fingers.

Then, with an infuriatingly passive expression, her tongue rolls out like a red carpet, and it’s with agonizingly slow motions that she sweeps it up her cream-covered fingers until they’re clean. Lashes fluttering, she even pops her index finger into her mouth, her cheeks hollowing around it and causing tension to creep up Felix’s spine. 

He’s sure that his entire face is coloured with a red-hot blush.

“Fuck,” Sylvain exhales. “That was so hot.”

She sends Felix a final glance over her shoulder, flashing him a charming half-grin as she walks around the table and towards the large double doors that lead out onto the balcony.

“Ah, screw it,” he mutters under his breath, making up his mind. 

“Uncle Felix!” 

He makes it a single step before the human form of a headache comes rocketing out of nowhere, clinging to his legs. 

“Dance with me!” Maggie pleads, big, adoring blue eyes gazing up at him. 

Sighing, Felix pries her hands from the backs of his pants and kneels down in front of her. “Wanna do something even more fun with your Uncle Felix?” She nods excitedly, bouncing like an excited puppy. “Have you ever smoked a cigarette before?”

“No!”

 _“Felix!”_ Ingrid and Glenn gasp in chorus, as if he’d actually give a four year-old a cig. Glenn punches him in the arm, and Ingrid glares at him as she takes her daughter by the hand and drags the whining child out of sight.

Sweeping questionable crumbs from his pants, Felix gestures towards the balcony. “I’m gonna get some fresh air.” He’s not really asking their permission, just discreetly telling them to leave him alone. 

When his back is turned, it’s with a smirk that Glenn leans towards Sylvain. “He’s fucked.”

“Oh, talking to a woman like that? One hundred percent.”

**__________**

The door slowly swings shut behind Felix, blocking out the mellow music and cheery voices from the ballroom. Springtime is Fhirdiad still provides a crisp cool, but Felix still loosens his tie and undoes the top button of his shirt. 

The woman he’d followed doesn’t seem bothered by the cold either, leaning with her bare back pressed against the parapet. Green eyes that seem to glow watch him so intently that Felix starts to fidget with his hands. He never fidgets.

She opens her black clutch, pulling out a box of cigarettes and holding them up. “You got a light?”

It takes Felix a minute to find his voice, so he just nods and reaches into his pocket, retrieving his lighter. It’s not often that he smokes, but he wasn’t opposed to bumming one from Sylvain whenever they escaped dull corporate parties like this one. When it came to relieving stress, it wasn’t nearly as effective as alcohol but it was good enough.

She pulls a cigarette from the box, placing it between her lips before offering the open box to him. 

“Thanks,” he manages to say, joining her at the edge of the balcony and taking a smoke of his own, putting it between his lips. He flicks the clasp of his lighter a few times until he catches a small flame, using his hand to shield it from the evening draft. She leans forward in waiting, and his eyes are drawn to the pale stretch of her neck, her skin illuminated by the moonlight and leading down the tempting plunge of her neckline. 

When the flame catches the tip of hers, Felix brings the lighter to his own, watching as it sizzles and glows softly before pulling it back.

The woman beside him takes a long drag of her cigarette, blowing a heavy curl of smoke from deep red lips. She stares out at the flickering lights of Fhirdiad after dark, a pensive look on her face. “About time you came by to say hello,” she murmurs.

“And who is it that I’m saying hello to?” It’s far from the first time he’d flirted with a woman, so he isn’t sure why he feels so...flustered.

“Byleth,” she says simply, providing no middle or last name like many other young socialites might. 

What an odd name. He finds it fitting though, an odd name for an odd woman.

“And you?” She asks after a brief pause, tapping her cigarette against his. 

He watches as the ashes flutter onto the balcony. “Felix,” he says. “Fraldarius,” he adds as an afterthought.

Byleth does something funny with her face. She almost looks surprised, her lips tightening and her brow creasing. Then Felix blinks, and the look smooths over as quickly as it appeared. 

“What?” He demands, frowning at her.

“Nothing,” she says quickly, blowing out another plume of musty grey smoke. She briefly opens her mouth to say something else, but must decide against it.

There’s a terrible lull that follows. Felix has never been great at making casual conversation. It wasn’t that his father and brother hadn’t attempted to nurture his people skills, it was simply that he had ignored their efforts.

“How are you tonight?” She asks out of nowhere, flicking her cigarette.

“Bored,” Felix answers stiffly. “Though I don’t suppose you really care.”

She chuckles at that, her amusement barely audible over the breeze. “You’re right, I don’t. Just making conversation.”

“You’re pretty shit at it.”

She peers down her nose at him. “You aren’t so word-savvy yourself.”

Felix doesn’t disagree because why bother? It was true enough. “And you aren’t from here.”

“First weekend in town.” Then, when his gaze turns curious, adds, “New job.” 

“You chose to spend your first weekend here?” As Faerghus’ capital city, there were tons of other places that a newcomer might want to visit. Galas like this were for people with previously established connections. 

She shrugs, her sigh embodied by a cloud of smoke. “My new boss gave me a ticket. I really thought there would be better booze.”

A common misconception, unfortunate as that may be. “At a charity gala?” Felix scoffs. “Not likely.”

“I’ll consider it a lesson learned.” She looks him up and down once, landing on his face. “You don’t look particularly charitable. Why are you here?”

He’s smoked his cigarette to the nub, so he drops it onto the ground and crushes it under his heel. “Charitable tax deduction.”

Byleth tilts her head at him, brows intently furrowed as she processes what he meant to be a joke. She points at him with her cig, stepping forward so that they stand toe to toe. The shadows of her face are so close that he can smell the intoxicating fragrance of smoke and champagne.

“You’re funny,” she says, though it sounds more like an observation than a compliment. It doesn’t matter though, because it gets his heart racing all the same. She flicks her cigarette aside, allowing her fingers to drift up the corded muscle of his forearms, humming appreciatively. Her touch feels like fire, bleeding over every inch of his skin.

The air between them is suddenly very, _very_ hot.

His gaze falls to her mouth, where her smile is slight, but making something akin to butterflies erupt in his stomach and his pulse thunder in his ears as he leans forward to close the distance. Felix moves on instinct, locking his hand around her hip and pulling her in to kiss her before he loses his nerve. She makes a soft sound of surprise against his lips, but doesn’t pull away.

He kisses her softly at first, each touch and movement of his mouth hesitant as he tests his boundaries. Her hands move up his chest, grabbing fistfuls of his shirt collar and somehow pulling him even closer, kissing him back with a fervor that made him dizzy. Her insistent mouth parts his lips, sending tremors through his nerves and awakening sensations he’d never felt before. It’s a _good_ kiss.

They stop too soon, in his opinion. Feeling punch-drunk as she pulls away, Felix blinks down at her as if in a haze. She leans back, pupils blown wide, and dark lipstick smeared across swollen lips. The sight of her alone is enough to make the outdoor air abruptly suffocating.

Byleth clears her throat, her hands still wound tightly into his shirt. “Okay, here’s the deal, Frederick—”

“Uh, it’s Felix—”

She cuts him off by pressing her lips to his. Felix tries to reciprocate, but her hand snakes into his hair and tugs his head back. He couldn’t move if he tried, as if her touch had short-circuited his mind in the best possible way.

“Whatever,” she growls. “This offer is going to last you exactly fifteen seconds, so you better answer quickly.” Byleth inclines her head so her mouth is positioned by his ear, whispering warm air that causes a shiver to run down his spine. 

_“Do you want to fuck me in the bathroom?”_

That single sentence shatters any previous self-restraint he’d held. Normally he would refuse. Public bathrooms were a bad place to engage in sexual activities, and at a charity event? 

_Live a little!_ Glenn’s overly chipper voice urges in the back of his mind. 

The bathrooms here _are_ ridiculously nice. Always clean and smelling of roses. Though no place to relieve oneself needs to be that shiny or grandiose, it’s not the worst place to sneak off to.

“Fifteen...fourteen...thirteen…” Her countdown is marked by open mouthed kisses along his jaw.

“Yes,” he groans, his breath catching in his throat as if his body can’t process pleasure so fast.

In her arrogant triumph she smirked, winding her hand in his tie and pulling him towards the doors. “Well come on then.”

**__________**

When he leaves the bathroom twenty minutes later, he does a quick scan of the room to avoid a certain selection of individuals. He swears under his breath when he accidentally locks eyes with Glenn and Dimitri, who wave him over.

Doing his best to keep his tread casual, Felix slings his blazer over his shoulder and glances down at his shirt to make sure it’s properly buttoned. The last thing he needs right now is to be teased. He knew Dimitri would never dare, but Glenn was a different story. 

Felix only hoped he could end this conversation before Sylvain could pester him for details. Or even worse, his father could overhear and ask when Felix would be giving him a grandchild. Was the offspring from Glenn not enough? 

“Felix!” Dimitri greets warmly, hugging him for a second too long. “How’s your night going?”

“It’s none of your damn business, Dimitri,” Felix snaps, though it lacks its usual venom. He adjusts his tie, ignoring the amused expression on his friend’s face.

Glenn lays a hand on his shoulder, gently guiding their friend away. “You know what, man? Why don’t you go say hello to Ingrid? I think she’s grabbing some dessert.”

Sensing the direction this is headed, Felix tries to slip away. His escape is waylaid when Glenn grabs the back of his collar. “Whoa, whoa! Pump the breaks, tiger.”

“What?” 

Glenn points to something on the side of Felix’s neck, smirking at him. “Next time you want to hook up with someone in the bathroom, make sure you clean up properly.” 

Frowning, Felix waits until Glenn’s walked away to lift his hand to his neck, fingers skimming over his neck. He grimaces when something sticky rubs off onto his fingertips. 

Lipstick. 

“Dammit,” he mutters, snatching a napkin off a nearby table and swiping at his neck. That damn woman and her stupid, plump lips.

Why couldn’t he stop thinking about them?

**__________**

Felix doesn’t hear from her all Sunday, and part of him wonders if there’s something wrong with her phone. There definitely isn’t something wrong with his own, because he’d ignored calls from Glenn and Sylvain the entire day.

He’s not usually like this, sitting by his phone and _waiting_ for a girl to call him, text him, anything really. 

It’s not like him to be so attached to a woman, but she was like a poison. Just the thought of her body moving against his made his palms slick and his heart race wildly in his chest.

He checks his phone once more as he walks into the building. Again when he steps on and off the elevator. Nothing. He tries his best not to be disappointed, instead focusing on preparing for today’s meeting.

He’s in the process of gathering the appropriate paperwork for the day’s hell gathering when the door to his office swings open, a smug looking Glenn standing in the doorway holding a granola bar and a cup of coffee.

“You’re late,” he comments, leaning against the doorframe. “You have a hot date last night?” 

“No.” Felix closes his laptop, setting it atop his pile of papers and rubbing at his temples. It’s too early in the morning for this. “You’re late everyday if we don’t have a meeting,” he points out. 

He’s when Glenn doesn’t prod him any further. “Do you know how hard it is to get a four year-old ready in the morning?” 

“Should have thought about that when you bypassed the condom,” Felix deadpans. He doesn’t even want to imagine what it must be like to live with Ingrid _and_ that miniature version of herself.

Glenn throws the granola bar at his chest, making it more crumbly than it probably already is. “I heard that!”

Felix rolls his eyes. “Well I said it out loud, didn’t I?”

His father appears behind Glenn, saving Felix from having a mug of coffee thrown at him. “That’s enough, you two. Can I see you both in my office?” 

Felix and Glenn exchange a look that’s eerily reminiscent of their childhood. “You’re not going to make us stand in separate corners again, are you?” It was a more common occurrence than one would think. This office had no shortage of squabbles when all Fraldarius men were under the same roof.

“Not this time. Unless I need to?”

Shrugging, Felix gathers his things and heads out the door, shoving Glenn a little as they walk side by side, ignoring their father’s sharp glance over his shoulder.

“He’s gonna introduce us to the head of the Garreg Mach branch. Also the new communications director,” Glenn explains. 

Felix frowns. “I knew we were meeting the new head but since when did we have a communications director?”

“We’ve always had one, you’ve just always sent your assistant to talk to them.” 

“Ah.” Assistants were the buffer between him and all unnecessary correspondence. A shield of sorts. “Well, I hope they know how things work around here.”

He follows his father into his office. “This is Jeralt Eisner, he’ll be taking over operations at our Garreg Mach branch next month,” Rodrigue introduces, and the most physically imposing man Felix had ever seen stands to shake his hand. Probably had at least a decades worth of service in special ops. A good choice on his father’s part.

He moves to shake the woman’s hand, reluctantly lifting his gaze to meet hers. 

Felix promptly drops everything he’d been holding. 

Rodrigue interprets his shock as hesitation. “This is our new communications director--”

“Byleth,” he finishes. 

Her smile is a threat to his sanity, pointed and sharp. “Nice to meet you.”


End file.
